


I Saw My Deep Blue Sea

by indevan



Series: Rock Band AU [48]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 10:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20044720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indevan/pseuds/indevan
Summary: King Kai sighs. “Just please behave.  Especially in front of Whis.  Please.”Two pleases, Kakarrot notes.  That’s two less than normal.  Maybe he’s starting to trust them more





	I Saw My Deep Blue Sea

**Author's Note:**

> i feel like it's been 500 years since i updated, well, anything! i've had a lot of life stress/work stress these past few months as well as unreliable wifi and it's been a struggle to write
> 
> this is also a more lighthearted story after the heaviness of the last two. or as lighthearted as i can be

There’s something nostalgic about meeting King Kai in a coffee shop rather than at the studio. It reminds Kakarrot of a simpler time when they were just five kids fucking around who just got signed to a local label. Now he’s in his mid-twenties with two successful albums and talks of a music video. It’s too much to wrap his head around most days, so usually he tries to ignore it. Burgeoning fame is still the great unknown. The great wide open, as Tom Petty would say and he knows for sure that he’s a rebel without a clue.

King Kai patiently waits while they order and that’s worrisome. He actually seems to be in a good mood, which is rarely the case when he meets with them. Usually, it’s him screaming that they’re sending him to an early grave while interjecting himself somehow with one or two of them going off book from what Whis told them to say in some interview.

“You have a show tomorrow night,” he says once they’re at the table with their coffees.

Raditz makes a face and begins shaking out his left hand.

“I dunno if I’ll be able to play,” he says.

King Kai’s jovial face falters and Kakarrot thinks for a moment that one of the small, dark lenses of his glasses is going to crack.

“What?”

He nods and continues shaking his hand.

“Yeah, my hand feels weird. Maybe it’s ‘cause--I’m married!”

His brother flips his hand around to show off the silver band. Turles rolls his eyes.

“Radi, you’ve been back from your honeymoon for a day and a half and I already want to strangle you.”

“Love you, too, man.”

“Where did you go again?” Kakarrot asks.

King Kai clears his throat, trying to get them on track.

“San Francisco,” he replies, deftly ignoring King Kai’s interjection. “And we took the bus to Santa Cruz for a couple days. It’s really pretty out there, but god that shit is not for me permanently. No thanks. Their pizza sucks.”

Vegeta nods sagely, sipping his coffee.

“We did that show there when Turles almost died and they tried putting fucking peaches on a pizza. Peaches.” His speech is a still a bit thick from the freshly healed tongue piercing. Kakarrot, being a good friend, had gone with him despite his terror of needles.

“Boys…”

King Kai looks properly exasperated now, which makes Kakarrot feel a bit better. They’re back in their comfort zones.

Turles snorts a laugh into whatever disgustingly sugary concoction he ordered for himself.

“Yeah, that’s what actually almost killed me on that tour. Not the overdose. Fucking peach pizza.”

Broly wrinkles his nose in distaste, but doesn’t say anything.

“Your show tomorrow night,” King Kai says, speaking louder.

“Right,” Kakarrot says, maybe feeling a little guilty that he’s the reason they got off topic.

He adjusts his glasses and clears his throat.

“So. It’s at the Rails--you remember, where your album launch party was?”

And where Lapis punched Cell out after Kakarrot nearly killed him. He’s familiar with the place.

“So what’s the big deal?” Turles asks. “It’s just a show, right?”

King Kai draws in a deep breath and adjusts his glasses once more.

“Well. You see, it’s a very special show.”

“Are we gonna get naked?” Turles asks. “‘Cause I need to know if they’re gonna give me shit ‘cause I’m circum--”

“No!” King Kai says abruptly. “Jesus, Turles. No. Whis is throwing the party and asked for you specifically.”

This is the first Kakarrot’s heard of it, considering that the party is tomorrow night.

“It’s a last minute thing he’s arranging,” King Kai says as if reading his mind.

“For what?”

“It’s the thirtieth anniversary of God of Destruction’s album, Devour the Earth.”

That explains it. King Kai’s forced good mood was to distract but the fact that he’s pants-wettingly intimidated by Whis’s husband. Kakarrot doesn’t get it, really. Beerus Lorde seems nice, despite his reputation.

“Whis says that his husband likes you boys for some god forsaken reason so you’ve been asked to perform. He wants to meet with you later today to discuss, but I thought to give you a warning ahead of time.”

It’s a bit annoying, like they’re little kids, but maybe he can’t really blame him. The five of them don’t have the best track record.

“What time today?” Vegeta asks gruffly.

“Dinner time. He’s graciously offered to take you all to dinner. In a nice restaurant.” King Kai eyes them all. “Specifically the five-star steakhouse that wrestler opened.”

“Mr. Satan?” Kakarrot asks. “I love that dude and I don’t even care about wrestling.”

Raditz cringes a bit. “Dude, we went there last year for Valentine’s Day.”

At the mention of the holiday, Vegeta winces as well, for a reason that’s unknown to him. His brother’s response makes a bit more sense. Last year, at that very restaurant, he had moved wrong and two of his shirt buttons blew off and landed with a splash in Chi-Chi’s glass of wine.

“It’s fancy-fancy, then,” Turles says with a smirk. “Swell.”

King Kai sighs. “Just please behave. Especially in front of Whis. Please.”

Two pleases, Kakarrot notes. That’s two less than normal. Maybe he’s starting to trust them more.

\--

The hostess at the restaurant looks at them for a moment, perhaps put off by their various piercings and visible tattoos.

“You have a reservation?” she asks.

“I think so,” Kakarrot says.

He looks at Vegeta for clarification and he curls a lip--how the fuck is he supposed to know? It’s bad enough he was bullied into a suit jacket that feels not at all like his regular denim one.

“Whis Lorde,” he says gruffly instead of answering him.

The hostess glances down at the tablet in her hands and then lifts her face to theirs once more.

“Yes. Right this way.”

Vegeta wonders if she recognized the name. Whis is incredibly well known in the music business, even outside of the West City scene. But that’s the music business. When you’re outside of a niche community, it’s something else to be recognized by name alone. He knows Beerus Lorde has that luxury, being put in as a name among the likes of Lou Reed and Iggy Pop, but Whis?

They’re led to a round table bedecked with a white tablecloth and topped with elaborately folded napkins. There’s something casually opulent and cold about it and it sets his teeth on edge. He’s somewhat used to this, looking at his neighbors from where he grew up on the north side of the North Side where the more wealthy people lived. He never had it. His family’s opulence was gaudy and outdated, gathering dust and showing what they had had before they went broke.

Whis stands as they approach, dressed as he usually is in a shiny, damask suit jacket perfectly tailored to his long, lean form.

“Hello, boys.”

He hugs them all in turn and beckons them to the table. Compared to him, Vegeta thinks they all look like a bunch of asshole kids playing dress up. Raditz looks somewhat presentable in a black suit that seems to actually fit him for once--he suspects that Lapis had something to with it--and he knows he’s fine since Bulma dressed him. The rest are a bit more dire in pieced together formalwear.

A server appears to fill their glasses with water and take drink orders. Whis orders a bottle of wine for the table and, for that, Vegeta’s grateful. He hates these fancy restaurants and how they make a big deal about what kinds of beer they have, when it’s probably the same crap you could get anywhere else.

“So, you’ve heard about the concert tomorrow night, yes?” he asks once the server leaves.

“Yeah,” Turles says, predictably the first one to talk. “Kinda short notice.”

Whis nods, taking a sip of his ice water.

“It was. At first, Beerus didn’t want to celebrate it because he and his brother are in a bit of a tiff.” He closes his eyes and gives a small laugh, “but, when aren’t they?”

“What changed?” Raditz asks. He shifts his shoulders in his suit jacket as if he feels like it’s too big.

“Oh, they made up, like they always do. It’s like that with twins, I imagine.”

“It is,” Raditz says, nodding.

Whis’s eyes light up and he lets out another laugh.

“Ah, yes, you too know what it’s like to be with one half of a set of identical twins. Now, I’m not sure. Is Lapis older or younger than his sister?”

“Younger.”

Whis nods. With graceful fingers, he plucks his napkin from where it’s folded on his plate and smooths it over his lap.

“Beerus is as well. But, anyway, I digress.”

Kakarrot, who’s been fiddling with his flatware, jerks his head up. “Do you have any siblings?”

He immediately shuts his mouth and casts an apologetic look towards Vegeta. He breathes out through his nose and clicks his new tongue piercing against the back of his teeth to avoid a temper flare.

“You’ve met my sister, Cus, but I am actually nearly the youngest of twelve,” he says.

Twelve?! Vegeta screws his face up. He and Tarble are close now, but he spent most of his childhood (that he remembers) annoyed at the prospect of no longer being an only child. He can’t imagine being the youngest of twelve.

“Wow,” Kakarrot says. “I’m the youngest of two...uh. Duh.”

Raditz rolls his eyes and playfully shoves him with one hand. Whis, though, finds this highly amusing, and simply laughs.

“Yes, it was quite cramped in that little bungalow on the North Side.”

Whis grew up on the North Side? He wasn’t always obscenely rich? That’s news to him. Then again, he knew, vaguely, that Whis had been a punk in his old days and that was how he met his husband--at one of God of Destruction’s shows. The story went that some guy in the pit was hassling Whis for being gay and Beerus jumped down from the stage to punch him in the face. Truthfully, though, Vegeta thought he had just been some rich kid playing at radicalism and rebellion, but maybe that wasn’t the case.

“In any event,” Whis says, “My childhood isn’t why I asked you here.”

He’s interrupted by the server’s return. He pours them all wine and stands poised for their order. Whis makes a graceful gesture towards the menu.

“I’ll have the New York strip, medium rare, with the lobster tail. Garlic asparagus and mashed potatoes for the sides. I’ll also take an order of truffled fries and the baked mac’n’cheese.” He pauses. “Oh, and I’d like the steak topped with the garlic compound butter.”

The server writes this all down without missing a beat. Whis smiles at them.

“Order whatever you’d like,” he says, “This meal is, of course, on me.”

Vegeta pushes his lips together slightly. And he thought they all ate a lot. Once the orders were in, Whis steeples his fingers to get their attention.

“The reason I asked you all to perform tomorrow is that my husband has said that he likes you all. That you remind him of how he was back in the day. There is something, however, that he doesn’t know about this party.”

That sounds nearly ominous and Vegeta eyes him suspiciously over his wine glass. He’d like to chime in more but his tongue is still a bit swollen from the piercing. He only hopes that he can actually fucking sing tomorrow night or he’s certain that King Kai will actually pop a blood vessel.

“What?” Broly asks, his fingers playing with the edge of his napkin.

“The party is two-fold. It’s not only the anniversary of the album, but it’s also our anniversary,” he says. “You see, the night of the album’s release, Beerus got incredibly wasted and proposed to me. The next morning I held him to it and, well, here we are.”

Kakarrot chokes into his wine with laughter. Vegeta can’t blame him. Whis was right: Beerus was just like them.

“So this party is special to me on another level,” Whis says. “I don’t want you to just cover some of God of Destruction’s songs. I want you to choose your own songs that speak your own love as well.”

Vegeta gulps at his glass of wine. Speak their own love? That isn’t what he expected.

“Great,” Turles says flatly.

\--

Speak your own love…

Turles throws his cigarette onto the ground and stomps it out with one boot. How the hell is he supposed to do that? He gets what Whis means and what he wants to do, but how in the hell can he speak his own love? Thank fuck he’s just the bassist who sings backing vocals. But still.

It’s easy for everyone else.

Kakarrot has Chi-Chi and his kids. Raditz is being extra gross now that he and Lapis are married. And more than that. They grew up in a house where they were loved. Turles had his grandma and, once upon a time, he thought he was in love with Raditz. He hates that his father left him there with his mom and he hates his mother for how she treated him.

“What’s the set list?”

He asks Vegeta this instead. They’re outside his apartment building, smoking, because he and Bulma have a rule about smoking in the house around Trunks. Turles is over, because he doesn’t want to be at the apartment with his thoughts and he doesn’t want to hang around the Son brothers because they know him too well.

“Kakarrot and I are setting it up. Apparently Raditz wrote a song on his honeymoon and the lyrics don’t actually suck so we’re putting it in.” He frowns down at the filter of his cigarette. “It’s explicit.”

“Of course it is.”

He isn’t mad that his best friend and ex-boyfriend found happiness. He knows they weren’t meant to be together, that they weren’t friends when they were boyfriends and it wasn’t good for either of them. And he and Lapis are made for each other, somehow.

“You’ve got something?” he asks bluntly in that Vegeta way of his.

Turles scowls as he takes out another cigarette to light.

“I don’t write songs,” he says. “I can give you some basslines for that new one, but--”

“You know what I mean.”

Does he? He rolls his lips in and widens his eyes, playing innocent.

“Don’t know what you mean, Vee.”

“Cut the shit. It’s annoying.”

Turles inhales deeply on his freshly lit cigarette, watching Vegeta drop ash. This is why he doesn’t hang out with him. It’s a bit mean, but since he got his meds adjusted, he’s been much better. Oh, fuck, he’s happy for his friend being in recovery and being happy with his son and girlfriend, but it also means he’s calling him out on his shit and the issue with love that he doesn’t want to address.

Broly.

He doesn’t know if it’s love, but he knows it’s getting deep. He wants to protect him, to hold him--no, be held. It isn’t just sex. Broly is a wounded bird, he wants to help fly on its own. He wants to see him grow and he wants to be there alongside him as he does. It’s scary, because even when he wants to make a move, he doesn’t want to scare him when he isn’t ready. So he sits on his hand and screams with his mouth closed.

Which, he’s sure, is not the sort of thing that Whis is looking for.

“Don’t get deep on me,” he says instead.

Vegeta, thankfully, shrugs and stubs his cigarette out on the side of the building.

“Alright. But do something about it soon. It’s annoying as fuck.” He pauses. “Wanna come up for lunch?”

Turles looks at him before saying, “Yeah, sure.”

\--

The Rails isn’t a place that Kakarrot has a good association with. He hasn’t seen Cell since he laid him out last winter, but he still doesn’t really care for this place. It’s a cool venue, though, he has to admit.

“Oh, the lights are nice.”

Chi-Chi tucks herself against him, looking up at the edison bulb lights strung up in the establishment. He’s glad she’s here. He and Vegeta talked it out and they’ve picked two songs each about their respective partners. Kakarrot chose the fateful song he wrote on that first group tour that brought Chi-Chi back to him and another he wrote on their last tour with Kame Kami about missing her and his boys. The boys in question were having a sleepover at his parents’ place with Trunks. They workshopped the song his brother wrote into something that worked and he chose a cover of a Depeche Mode song for him and Lapis. Broly shrugged and said he’d like to cover the first song he and Kale sang together, and Turles has said nothing. The rest will be covers of songs by God of Destruction, and that intimidates him way more. Their sound is decidedly hard-edged seventies and eighties punk. While their own music is ragged and jagged it, it’s of this time. He’s a bit worried.

He doesn’t let it show, though, when he turns towards Chi-Chi and kisses her.

“Go find Bulma and I’ll see you after the show.”

She holds him back, placing her hands on his back, pressing her body against his and he thinks he doesn’t want to let her go. But he has to and they split. He’s been worried about her, with everything, but she’s okay. They’re okay.

He peels himself away and goes to where the stage has been set up. He’s a bit disappointed to see that Bulma and Lapis are over by the stage when he’s already separated from Chi-Chi. He voices this complaint and Bulma widens her eyes--no small feat considering the fake lashes she’s wearing.

“My girl is alone surrounded by people she hates? I’ll go to her.”

She turns to give Vegeta a last kiss before tweaking his nose and sauntering off on her chunky platforms. Kakarrot spies his best friend smiling after her, probably not even aware that he’s doing it.

“Hmm.”

Lapis looks bemused from where he sits on the edge of the stage, hands behind him as he kicks his legs back and forth. Then again, his brother-in-law always looks bemused. Raditz leans against the lip of the stage, not looking at all as nervous as Kakarrot feels.

“I think that’s your cue to go, too, babe.”

“Is it now?”

He reaches out to run his fingers through a bit of Raditz’s hair and smirks.

“Go chill with 16 and Z, dick.”

“I love it when you talk dirty.”

“I’ll see you after.”

Another lingering kiss and Lapis hops off the stage to melt into the small throngs of people who have begun to arrive. Kakarrot nervously nibbles his lip. He doesn’t usually get this anxious before a show. Usually, he just has to pee. Maybe it’s putting all of his emotions out there knowingly, willingly. Maybe it’s playing Beerus Lorde’s songs in front of him. He’s not intimidated by him like King Kai is in the least, but it’s God of Destruction. The granddaddies of the West City punk scene. Uncle Toma had their album and they used to listen to it as kids on cassette in the car, screaming the lyrics along with their parents and Aunt Fasha while grandpa shook his head in laughter.

Jaco comes rushing over, looking harried in the way he does when he wants to make it look like he isn’t bad at his job.

“King Kai wants to know if you’re all ready for sound check,” he says. “And if your uncle is still single, let him know I’m willing to try again.”

Raditz squints at him. “That’s a weird thing that King Kai wants to know.”

Jaco makes a frightened squeak and runs away. Kakarrot snorts a laugh, his nervousness slightly abated.

“You all ready?” he asks.

Four nods. Well, that’s most of them, at least.

\--

The show goes over well. They’ve been playing together for so long that even being apart for a few weeks doesn’t quell what’s between them. There’s something there, Turles has always known it from when he came up with the idea to start the band back in high school. Beerus Lorde is pleased as well, after hearing the stage banter about the party’s ulterior motive. He has his arms around Whis and won’t stop necking him like they’re a pair of teenagers.

“I hope I’m still that gross when I’m old.”

Raditz smirks and knocks back another shot of tequila. They’re at the bar, celebrating the show. It was good, even if he didn’t have anything to put forth of his own. Without meaning to, he lets his gaze drift towards Broly who’s in a deep discussion about Pokemon with 16 and Kale.

“You think Broly likes 16?” he asks.

He regrets the words the moment they’re out of his mouth because Raditz adopts the most obnoxious, shit-eating look in the world.

“What makes you ask that?”

“Get bent.”

The grin turns nearly feral. “Oh I will later. With my husband’s strap.”

“What about my strap?”

Lapis materializes next to them, looking luminous in the dim lights. Raditz slips his arm around him and Turles tries not to be jealous at how easy it is for them.

“Turles is wondering if Broly has a crush on 16.”

Lapis’s arched brows raise. “Oh, why’s that?”

He wants to smack them both.

“I am making an observation, fuckwads,” he says irritably. He raises a hand for the bartender to bring him another drink.

“Well, the answer is no,” Lapis says. “I think Broly likes someone else.”

“Who?” Turles asks before he can stop himself.

Lapis takes the plastic cup Raditz has been sipping from in between shots and lifts it to his lips.

“Who indeed.”

He doesn’t like his cryptic shit, but he also really wants his drink so he’s stuck with the two of them.

“Give it time,” Raditz says. “Maybe then you can speak your love.”

He and Lapis crack up and Turles wants to knock their heads together. Finally, his drink is delivered and he snatches it off the bar.

“Fuck you both.”

He storms off into the crowd, holding his drink. He isn’t hung up on Broly, he’s fine. He can wait. Wait as long as it takes, even, but. He stops in the middle of the party, noticing someone. It’s a guy he hasn’t seen before who’s talking to Yamcha from Kame Kami and Bulma. He’s hot, for sure. The guy catches his eye and gives a smile, lifting his hand in a wave. Yeah, Raditz is right. Eventually he can “speak his love” or whatever Whis said, but not any time soon. In the meantime, he can keep himself distracted.


End file.
